


pride

by besully (Briar_Elwood)



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Geraskier Week, M/M, dealer's choice, trans!Jaskier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22817137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Briar_Elwood/pseuds/besully
Summary: Geraskier Week Dealer's ChoiceHe only manages to get the shirt untucked from the bard’s trousers when Jaskier’s smile disappears, and he scrambles backwards, holding the edges of his shirt down.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 13
Kudos: 672





	pride

They’d gotten caught in a storm and attacked by bandits all within a few hours of leaving their campsite that morning. One would think that would set one in a terribly bad mood, but Jaskier had been training hard, and the two of them had been able to take out the bandits laughably easy. Paired with the fact the storm had already cleared and bright sunshine was already drying things out--that, and the adrenaline from the fight--Geralt and Jaskier both feel high and giddy as they sought out a river to wash the mud that had caked itself to every inch of their bodies.

Tossing lute and swords to the side, they hit the riverside at full speed, ducking under the chilly water. Jaskier runs his fingers through Geralt’s hair, getting the thickest bits of gunk out. Geralt sighs into the touch and yanks his shirt off and throws it to the riverbank. Jaskier runs his hands down Geralt’s chest as Geralt reaches out to pull Jaskier’s shirt off. He only manages to get it untucked from the bard’s trousers when Jaskier’s smile disappears, and he scrambles backwards, holding the edges of his shirt down.

The cold of the water seems to suddenly sink into Geralt’s skin as he stares at Jaskier in confusion. Jaskier looks pale and panicked, and Geralt realizes… he’s never seen Jaskier without his shirt on. Things have been moving slowly between them, kisses and cuddles here and there, and, of course, Geralt has bathed many times around the bard, but never the other way around. After a few moments, Jaskier lets out a long, thin breath.

“You’re just realizing you’ve never seen me shirtless, aren’t you?” he says shakily, not looking Geralt in the eye. Geralt doesn’t answer. It doesn’t seem like now is the best time to start asking questions.

One deep breath later, and Jaskier finally looks up to meet Geralt’s gaze. “With the way things are headed, it’s gonna happen eventually.” He has a small smile on his lips, and Geralt can’t decide if it’s genuine or not.

“You don’t have to--”

“I’m not ashamed,” Jaskier interrupts. “In fact, I actually like it. It’s just that most people don’t understand.” He looks up again, and this time Geralt is almost certain the smile is real. “But I trust you.”

Something warm curls inside Geralt’s chest at that admission, but there’s still a buzz of concern and anxiety. Jaskier takes another deep breath, and then pulls his shirt off. He doesn’t toss it to the riverbank, keeping it in his hands and twisting it uneasily.

Geralt doesn’t seem them at first. They’re obscured by the obscene amount of hair Jaskier has covering his chest. But after a moment he notices a couple long curved scars outlining Jaskier’s pectorals. Geralt frowns.

“I don’t understand.”

Jaskier lets out a huff of breath that’s almost laughter. “Um. Well. Not to be crass, but I don’t have a dick either if that helps.”

Geralt continues to stare at Jaskier--his face, not the scars. “How--?”

This time there is a little laugh. “I was born with… certain parts and without certain… other parts. And I quickly realized they didn’t fit. So I got rid of the… the breasts. The chest hair, the voice, and the jawline were all magic.”

It’s starting to make sense now. Geralt looks Jaskier up and down again before asking, “And the parts you were born without?”

Jaskier shrugs. “Don’t find them important. I don’t need a dick to be a man.”

Geralt nods and haltingly takes a step closer to Jaskier. The shirt in Jaskier’s hands twists again, but Jaskier wades through the river water to Geralt.

“May I?” Geralt asks quietly, reaching a hand out. Jaskier’s face looks slightly pinched, but he nods. Gently, Geralt traces the left scar with his fingertips.

“You’re not freaked out?” Jaskier asks quietly. Geralt lets his fingers curl in the coarse hair.

“Have you noticed how many scars I have?”

Jaskier grins crookedly. “It’s a little different.”

“True,” Geralt concedes, bringing his free hand to Jaskier’s cheek. “But no, I’m not ‘freaked out’.”

The tension that’s been in Jaskier’s shoulders since he ran away slips away, and Geralt kisses him, long, slow, and deep. “They’re beautiful,” he murmurs, breaking from the kiss and resting his forehead on Jaskier’s. “You’re beautiful.”

If Geralt didn’t know any better, he’d swear Jaskier glows.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @ loralielo


End file.
